Charlie: Pet Reaper
by First star42
Summary: Charlie's POV on the events in the show


My name is Charlie, and I've been dead for seven years. No, I'm not a ghost or a zombie or in heaven or anything cool like that. I'm a reaper. I don't have any cool superpowers or anything like that. Basically, I work in an unpaid community service job that I didn't even apply for. Every day, I walk to the park and a blind man feeding the birds hands me a post- it note of doom. It's not my doom, it informs me of the upcoming death of an animal. More often than not, its somebody's pet, but let me tell you, I have spent way too many days wandering through the woods tripping and stumbling and getting a chance to try out all the new curses I've heard since being dead.

While the others in my division may have treated me like a little kid when I first came, they're all pretty much of the opinion that if I hadn't died, I would be an adult now.

_If I hadn't died._

I don't remember much of my death. All I can remember from right before is some guy grabbing my shoulder before I was about to cross the street and telling me to look both ways before I crossed. Of course, I know now that he was "popping my soul" so that I wouldn't feel the impact, but at the time I thought he was just another paranoid adult. I had rolled my eyes, promised that I would do so, and ran across when the crosswalk signal came on. That was when the drunk driver hit me. They either hadn't noticed or hadn't paid attention to the red light and the little boy crossing the road. They panicked and drove off, leaving me standing over my body in shock. It's been seven years, but I still haven't quite gotten over it. I don't know if anyone really can get over their death. Especially since mine left me a dead 10- year- old fending for himself in the world while reaping the souls of animals.

Things have gotten better since I met George, a.k.a toilet seat girl. She may seem tough and standoffish at first, but I know who left the new jacket and pack of cookies outside of my hideout in the woods. Its an old playhouse that I found and cleaned up sorta. It's not a home, but at least it keeps the rain off of me. Anyways, at least now I know that if I ever get into real trouble, I have someone to go to.

I took the purple post- it out of my pocket and looked at it. Time to head to Kingfisher Elementary.  
>_<p>

I ran out the back door, glad that that was over. I hoped that the man was okay, but the presence of two other reapers told me the truth. Seeing the other reapers always made me glad that I only took animals' souls. I'm not sure I could take an actual person's. Job done, I hopped on my skateboard and got ready for another afternoon of killing time. Just another day in the dead kid's life. Except I was totally not ready for what happened next.  
>"Hey," a voice said behind me. I spun around to find that girl who had been blondie's<br>"assistant" in the showing of the Komodo dragon. "Why did you touch it?" she asked. Shoot. An observant one.  
>"I'm a dragon slayer," I muttered. Huh. I liked the sound of that. I turned to go before she could pry any more. Unfortunately, she spoke again.<br>"Won't you get in trouble for ditching?" she asked.  
>Wasn't she doing the same thing? "Won't you?" I asked, making sure to keep the sass and unwelcomness present in my voice. Hopefully that would scare her off, although it was kinda nice actually talking to someone. She was the first non- reaper, the first kid I'd talked to in a while.<br>However, she was persistent. "I saw you take that girls lunch."  
>Ah. And now with the accusations. Anger started to boil up in me. It was all right for her to tell me stealing was wrong. She probably had a nice house, with adoring parents who took care of her to go home to. She'd probably never gone hungry or been truly unhappy in her life. I turned to go, tears pricking at my eyes. I expected her to cry thief or call the police or something but her next action threw me totally off guard.<br>"Want some chocolate milk?" I stopped and turned around, shocked at the question. I was almost unsure that this was what she had actually said and wished there was a rewind button on my brain. I was half convinced I'd heard her wrong, but I went for it, shrugged, and said "sure".  
>She opened her thermos labeled "Reggie", handed me the cup, and poured me some chocolate milk. This bizarrely normal action made me feel almost like an ordinary kid. I almost forgot I was a dead kid resurrected to be a reaper. Until she asked her next question.<br>"Do you know a girl named George?" I was in shock. George? Toilet seat girl George? How much did she know? She was a little too close to some things she should stay far away from, that was for sure. Trying to keep my voice steady, I replied nonchalantly, "Toilet seat girl? Yeah, I've heard of her." Hopefully that was a vague enough answer to keep her from finding out things she shouldn't know. I wondered how she knew George. Maybe she was her sister. They did look a little alike. I was almost tempted to ask, but it would be for the best if I just left. I turned quickly and skated out of there as fast as I could. Despite the trouble she could get both of us in, I hoped I'd see her again.


End file.
